Taking Over Me
by fearlessgurl283
Summary: But for once, she does not want to be saved. This fear, this feeling that is enveloping her now, comes with a peaceful feeling that she has not felt for a long time. She is dying and she has never felt more alive........a Sokkla fic. Read it and see!
1. Cartoon Heroes

A/N- Well, randomly one night a couple nights ago, I got a really good idea for a Sokkla fic. I didn't have time to write it down, so this isn't quite what I had originally thought of, but the basic idea is the same. Hope ya enjoy. :)

* * *

**Chapter 1: Cartoon Heroes**

She has never been scared. Even back when she was little, nothing ever scared her. If she was naïve, she would call it being without the fear gene but she is not naïve.

Some people would even go so far to call it a blessing, to be able to not fear anything, but they are fools.

Her father called it a gift, and called her his prodigy, the one who would be able to master lightning one day because she felt no fear. He had taught her to feel nothing, said those who cared were weak, and that her gift would allow her to rise above it all, to be powerful beyond measure.

But she knows better.

It is not a blessing, but a curse, something she has been stricken with her whole life.

All her life it has forced her to be strong, to put on this fake mask in which everything is all right, that she's never been better. This mask that showed nothing but strength eventually turned to cruelty and coldness. Soon the mask _became her_, became who she was, and there was nothing else. And the worst part is that there is nothing she can do to stop it. She is trapped in someone else's body, an all powerful fearless machine that stops at nothing, and will not let anything get in its way.

She had watched helplessly as she had shot lightning at the Avatar, almost killing him. And now she watches helplessly again as her brother crumples into a heap on her ship. It is history repeated, just as what happened oh so long ago, back when she met him the first time in years after his banishment.

She watches as her body convulses into laughs_, she is now laughing at his foolishness of trusting her again_. She betrayed him not once, not twice, but multiple times and yet he still trusts her. He just wants to go home so badly that it is pitiful. Almost as pitiful as her situation, at her inability to break free of the cycle she has become a part of.

Her fingers move into graceful patterns, deadly patterns that bring forth the lightning that her father had said she would control all those years ago. The lightning swirls around her, finally coming to a point as she brings her fingers together, then streaming right toward the shaking heap lying some yards away, the heap called her brother. She cannot look away, cannot do anything but gape in horror, unable to move. The cycle repeats itself, but this time something is missing. Their uncle is no longer around to channel the lightning away from his nephew, no longer able to save him.

So she is surprised when suddenly her brother leaps up, grabbing her fingers in his hand. He channels the lightning through his body and shoots it out through his other hand, letting it explode on a nearby cliff, much like his uncle had done all those months ago.

And then comes the defining moment where he kicks her off the ship, paralyzing her body as she falls into the water. She hits the icy cold water with such force that it is not a surprise that she is paralyzed, but she knows better. It is not the shear force that is paralyzing her, or the fact that her brother (the child her father had always considered weak) finally had it in him to channel the lightning away from himself, finally had the strength in him to fight back against her and _win_.

It is because for the first time in her life, she feels fear.

And that itself is enough to shock herself into oblivion, shock her enough to freeze her and make her unable to move as she falls farther and farther down into the water. She knows the water is deep and that there are no guards on the ship this time to save her. She is on her own, will have to trust on her own instincts to save herself.

But for once, she does not want to be saved. This fear, this feeling that is enveloping her now, comes with a peaceful feeling that she has not felt for a long time, not since before her mother's death (maybe even before that).

She is dying and she has never felt more alive.

And so with powerful resolve that is finally her own, she lets go.

The blackness surrounds her and then there is nothing.

* * *

He sighs. He has been fishing all day with no luck at all. He curses his bad karma; the spirits must be out to get him or something. After seeing all the fish at the market, he should be reeling in baskets of fish. But no, he is sitting here, bored as ever and still unsuccessful.

He has almost dozed off when his fishing rod alerts him to a bite. _Finally, a fish! _He thinks, shaken out of his reverie. _And a big one_ he thinks after struggling with it for quite some time. _It's really heavy _is his next thought. But after all this time with no luck, he isn't about to let it get away.

When it almost pulls him in, he thinks for an instant of letting it go, but quickly decides against that notion. He steps into the water, and walks closer to his tugging line.

Finally, he pulls hard on the line and a bit of his catch comes out of the water.

And instead of seeing scales and fish flesh, he sees _cloth_, he sees _wet clothes._

_What the……_ he wonders, seeing the clothes. He pulls hard, and after awhile, figures he is close enough to touch it, whatever it is. He decides quickly to grab it and then proceeds to drag it out of the water, straining with the effort. He almost kills himself doing this (whatever it is, it's really heavy) but continues to drag it behind him until he is out on the water and on the beach.

He turns around, waiting to see some dead corpse of some random solider; but instead gets the biggest surprise of his life when he sees who the person is.

He gapes at the body, not really believing what he is seeing.

_What the heck is that psychotic bitch who nearly killed Aang doing here?_

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A/N- Yes, Azula floated all the way from where she nearly drowned to where Sokka was fishing. I made it so they weren't very far apart at all (though it may have seemed like it to both groups) because otherwise there is no way Azula would have survived. I think you can only be in the water without breathing for a few minutes, 5 or 6 minutes max (before you kill too many brain cells or something) before you drown. 

It's still a pretty big stretch that Azula survived, but this is my story and I'll do with it what I please. XD Anyway, hope you enjoyed the first chapter. (You'll be seeing the next chapter pretty soon. ;))

And please review!

_EDIT (12/22/07): Going through this fic again before writing the next chapter (chapter __**seven**__ now), I realize I made a lot of grammatical errors and the like. All that I found are fixed now. Also, the structure of some sentences were reworded so that they make more sense as well, sorry about that! XD_

_EDITEDIT: Wow, my fic's __**a year old**__ now :O_


	2. How To Save A Life

**Chapter 2: How to Save a Life**

He blinks, _maybe the image will go away,_ but what lies before him is still the same, the ever present reminder of the nightmare he has been thrust into. The worst part is that the more he stands there wondering if this is just some bizarre dream he's having, the more he realizes that it is all real. _Very real_, as he finally gets up the courage to go over and touch her (_well, her body, as it looks like to him right now_), feeling the stickiness of the blood on the back of her head (_she must have hit her head on a rock or something_), and the overall wet feeling that one only gets from being in water of some kind.

The fact that this is not a dream becomes ever so more evident as he touches her face and feels the coldness emulating from it. If she is not dead already, she will die soon without help. _Without his help_ he thinks silently, knowing that he is the only one who can help her now. (As he is too far away from any place where he can get help from someone else; even Katara is too far away to help even if she wanted to.)

And this is where confliction and confusion sets in. If his first thought upon seeing her was any indication, she is better off dead. But another thought comes into his head, a soft little voice saying that nobody_, not even Princess Azula of the Fire Nation_, the girl who almost killed Aang and took over the Earth Kingdom in one fell swoop, (as well as possibly even killing Suki; for Azula and co. obviously took the Kyoshi warrior clothes, who wasn't to say that they didn't take their _lives_ as well) _deserved to die._

He tries to brush that thought away, but guilt gnaws at him and he can almost hear Aang's voice in his head, telling him to _forgive_, though he will never (and can never) _forget_. Eventually he succumbs to that voice, cursing his conscience for putting such a thought in his head, and leans down to feel for a pulse. He realizes that he should probably flip her over first, and mentally slaps himself for not paying close enough attention when his mother taught Katara and him first aid.

After he gets her on her back, he brushes back some of the hair covering her face, reveling in her beauty even in such a situation as this one. For once, there is a look of calmness on her face that is not faked or filled with cruelty and twisted joy at watching other people suffer. For once she looks serene and graceful, and for a moment he wonders if what he had seen of her since day one had all been an act.

He ponders this for only for a moment, quickly dismissing the thought. He reasons that all people at death or near death probably look just as serene, remembering the look on Aang's face before Katara healed him.

As he checks for her pulse, he ponders how she got in the situation in the first place. He decides she must have fallen off a ship or something to have fallen in deep enough water to not be able to swim back up or be able to swim back to shore. But he wonders why that would have been a problem, because she _must_ have learned how to swim back at the palace.

_Then again, maybe not_ seeing waterlogged she is and the fact that she's either dead or near death right now. _Well, she's alive_, _though just barely_ he thinks to himself as he finds her pulse. Her heart is beating, however faintly. A snide little voice in his head comments that she doesn't really _have_ a heart, but he pushes that thought to the side to deal with the situation at present.

He quickly checks to see if she's breathing, though he has a feeling she won't be. For there is no possible way that _anyone_ could have survived what she did and still be breathing…

She isn't breathing (he's always right) and suddenly he finds himself lost for breath as well. For he suddenly remembers what to do when a person is not breathing, and the compromising position both of them would be in if she regained consciousness. For it would mean that he would have to breathe into her, breathe _for_ her, and to do that he would have to put his _mouth_ on hers.

Basically, he would have to kiss her to save her and a moment ago he was just going to sit there and let her die.

He really hates it when he's right.

* * *

A/N- I was originally going to make this chapter longer, but it fit perfectly to cut it off here, and makes the title fit so much more perfectly with the chapter. I promise the chapters will get longer; and I'm going to try and write the next chapter now or soon so that you all won't be left hanging. XD 

_EDIT (12/22/07): I fixed more grammatical issues and added some more content, making this chapter flow better. :) Hope you enjoyed this chapter and, as always, please review!_


	3. Sweet Sacrifice

**Chapter 3: Sweet Sacrifice**

He racks his brain (_there __has__ to be other options_) but as the seconds trickle by, he realizes with sickening certainty that there isn't anything else he can do. And if matters weren't complicated enough already, the sticky feeling of blood seeping through his fingers quickly reminds him of the gash on the back of her head. Now if she doesn't die from lack of air, she will certainly bleed to death.

He groans (_why me, why oh why __**me**_) and before he can talk himself out of it, tips her head back, opening her mouth. He quickly takes a deep breath before placing his mouth on hers, and then exhales, feeling the air go in. And suddenly this feeling of lightness washes over him, it feels as if a huge burden has been lifted from his shoulders as the air goes into her body.

He breathes again, exhaling into her mouth.

With every breath he feels a little lighter, and he slowly falls into a cycle of breathing and exhaling into her. He can almost hear his mother's sweet voice, congratulating him for getting this far and urging him to keep going. He feels faint at the sound of her voice, and squeezes his eyes shut (_must stay strong, won't cry, must stay strong..._) He then takes a deep breath, opens his eyes again, and looks upon the motionless girl in front of him.

His gaze softens and he cannot help feeling sorry for her, despite everything that transpired between them. And so he puts his mouth again on hers, starting the cycle again…

* * *

She is floating.

What she is feeling now is a weird feeling—though not unwanted. She has no idea how she got where she is, or _where_ she is. Heck, at the moment, she has no idea _who_ she is, but this comforting feeling is slowly enveloping her and suddenly she doesn't really care. Her memory is a haze anyway; she wouldn't be able to figure anything out right now even if she wanted to.

And now the darkness that had entombed her is slowly receding as she regains control of her body, limb by limb. She wonders if her memories will come back as well, but her search is in vain as there is nothing but a gray fog in a place where her whole life story used to be.

The floating feeling ceases and she is falling instead, when suddenly she feels hands gently cradling the back of her head. She feels strong hands holding her up as soft lips gently brush hers and proceed to kiss her in a way that makes her feel faint. She is not one for fantasy, but this is obviously some other worldly place and so she can dream.

She can picture him clearly in her mind's eye, a tall dark and handsome guy who sweeps her off her feet and takes her away from it all. She is not sure what exactly she is running from (as her memory is still foggy) but that does not matter, especially now with this handsome stranger's lips on hers.

She is just getting comfortable in his embrace when suddenly she feels his lips leaving hers, can feel his presence leaving her. She is falling again and cannot help herself from crying out…

* * *

"No, don't leave me! Please…" her voice, now suddenly soft and pleading, breaks through his thoughts (_there's nothing else I can do_) and hits very near to his core. _Please…don't leave me?_ He sits there reeling in shock (_she didn't just say that, did she?_), yet again doubtful of the realness of it all, when suddenly he finds himself doing what later he can only describe as the actions of a sleep deprived and mentally insane person.

He reaches over and gently grabs her hands, holding them tightly in his.

"I will never leave you, I promise." He whispers in her ear, words that neither of them will ever forget.

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_**A/N**__-_ _EDIT (12/22/07): Fixed more grammatical errors and added more content. As always, enjoy and please review!_


	4. Hands Open

**Chapter 4: Hands Open**

The fire crackles as it burns and he is aware that it will completely die out if he doesn't tend to it soon. But for now he is content to just sit there and watch the flames die, the sparks jumping in front of him as he sorts through his thoughts. _And there's plenty to sort through_, he thinks in an amused sort of way, hugging his legs close to his body as he stares into the flames.

And then suddenly it starts to rain, snuffing out the fire in an instant.

It comes down in buckets—coming harder with every passing second—but it doesn't occur to him to seek shelter. He sits there for a moment, his clothes quickly soaking through, before a chuckle escapes his mouth.

Soon he is laughing hysterically, laughing at the irony of it all. How he randomly decided to fish far down the coast, far away from the rest of their little gang. How he had pulled _her_ out of the water, not a fish. How he had _saved_ her. He pauses here in his thoughts, his laughter ceasing as he remembers then _how he promised he would never leave her side._

And then his eyes are drawn to the _real_ her; the one lying in front of him getting soaked by the pouring rain. And suddenly he feels the cold and shivers. If _he_ is cold—she is most definitely _freezing_, and he knows she is in no condition to be out in this type of weather. His keen eyes seek out shelter (any kind of place, just somewhere for them to be sheltered from the rain and the cold) and he soon sees a cave not too far away.

He mentally winces, remembering the last two times he has been in a cave, but knows he will have to take what he can get right now.

Making the decision automatically, he goes over to her and gently picks her up, carrying her bridal style to the cave. He grunts under her armor and makes a mental note to take it off her—it _is_ soaked through and she _must_ have clothes underneath after all. (_Right?)_

Or so he hopes as he sets her down near the cave wall, a nice distance inside the cave but still close enough to the entrance to be able to see outside. He has not had much experience with women and what they wear under their clothes—besides Katara that is, and she doesn't count because she's his sister. Though he definitely doesn't think that Katara should wear those clothes when other guys are around; if the looks Aang was giving her were any indication. He doesn't think he wants to know what a guy like Zuko would think of her in them. (Scratch that, Zuko should _never_ see Katara in her underclothes/bathing suit; Zuko will never _be_ in the position to see them even if he wasn't a back-stabbing bastard who never deserved her trust in the first place; even _she_ has enough sense to see that!)

_Of course_, he thinks, _guys can change, people can change_. (Though never Zuko! His older-brother-who-knows-what's-best-for-Katara screams, which is softly countered by the little voice in his head who laughs at him and says that he never thought he'd develop a liking for the psychotic Fire Nation Princess either. The one who gained a level of 220 evil after the whole shoot-lightning-the-avatar-dies thing, after all.) He frowns as he realizes that he has just spent a whole minute wasted on thinking about Katara and the Scarred-Backstabbing bastard. (The very same guy who also seems to have a very messed up family. He, of course, ignores the little part of his brain saying that that wasn't _all_ he was thinking about)

Finally he screams and forces himself to escape from his thoughts as he looks once more upon the person in front of him. The person who has also suddenly become eerily female. (He reminds himself that the reason he forgets about her feminine side is because she never really _shows_ it, after all, and not because of some _other_ reason…) He then fumbles with her armor ("Blast it, does the Fire Nation have to complicate _everything_?!?") before finally getting it undone, placing it in a pile off to the side.

Soon she is shivering ferociously in her underclothes (he tries not to blush or act like he notices…anything) and he hesitates before digging his parka out of his bag ("At least I was smart enough to bring _that_ with me") and draping it over her like a blanket. He unconsciously tucks the sides of the parka in around her, and smiles at the image of doing it to his sister all those years ago……

He is still lost in the memory when a moan reaches his ears and the image fades as he again sees the girl before him with pale skin, and though he can not see them right now, _dark amber eyes_. He frowns as he sees her still shivering (she's still unconscious--or in some type of deep sleep) and suddenly remembers the gash in her head that he had clumsily bandaged earlier. He had always believed (and still did) that healing and first aid was a woman's job, though he was taught the basics by his mother and is finally appreciative of that. ("_First_ I had to save her with mouth-to-mouth by _kissing_ her, _then_ I had to bandage the gash in her head--_what will I have to do next??"_)

He finds the bandages soaking wet, unsurprisingly, and searches for new ones to replace them with. He mentally thanks Katara for always making sure everyone in their little group has first aid supplies on them at all times (even though it seemed stupid at the time) and digs out some extra bandages and pieces of cloth from his bag.

He takes the bandages ones off her head, noticing how the blood has soaked through the cloth and wonders exactly_ how hard _she had hit her head. (And exactly how _does_ one hit ones head in a deep lake; on a floating tree limb?) Replacing them with new bandages, he ponders how much damage the hit has done to her brain—but does not wonder for long as he finds her _still_ shivering. ("Katara once told me about where people get so cold they can't stop shivering and eventually they can die from the cold—it's called hypo something; hypochondria? Hypertension? Ummm…hyperthermia? Oh yea, that's it!")

He ponders now how completely odd it is that she is so cold; after all, he always thought firebenders could control their body temperature…

He is just about ready to set out for some firewood when he remembers the rain and the person besides him. After all, the possibility of leaving her alone to find wood is out of the question (It's just completely _stupid_) but knows even more so that it is pointless because he would find the wood sopping wet even if he did leave her alone to find it.

The frown is ever present on his face, and he cannot but help think there must be other options, when suddenly he remembers the one last thing he can do to ensure both of their safeties.

Without a further thought, he pulls her close to him (the blanket is between them of course, he tells himself) and falls asleep, the seemingly comatose firebender held tightly in his arms...

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_A/N- EDIT (12/22/07): Yet again I have edited this chapter, making it more readable and with better grammar than before. Again, enjoy and please review!_


	5. It's Not Over

A/N- I know it's been such a ridiculously long time since I've updated, but rest assured, I have not forgotten this story. I've had this chapter written for months, ever since I posted the last one, but never got time to type it up on my computer and edit it some more before posting it. (I write my stories in my lovely writing notebook first and edit the "rough draft" multiple times before typing it up on the computer and editing it some more before submitting the final draft to this will remind me yet again of the focus of this story and I will be able to write the next chapter on the same storyline (as well as think further of the plot and where I want this story to go).

* * *

**Chapter 5: It's Not Over**

"Again,"

"…"

"_Again,"_

"…"

"Again!"

"But Father I---"

"It.was.not.perfect_.Again_." The flames shoot out and lick her heels, the searing pain non-forgettable. She turns around to escape the pain and sees her mother standing in shadows of the room. She runs to her, reaching so desperately for the one ounce of hope she has left. The spot seems ever so far away and she fears she will not reach it before the flames claim her.

"Mother! Mother!" she screams, finally reaching her, and immediately throws her arms around her mother's body. She is sobbing into her mother's robes when suddenly she feels the flames again. It is at this moment she backs away only to see her mother bursting into flames as if she is made of wood. The fire consumes the woman and it is only moments later when she sees that nothing but ashes are left. _(I set her on fire; I killed her; I did it)_

She hears a scream in the distance unmoving, unfeeling and it takes her a minute to realize _that it is_ _her own scream_ _she is hearing_, the sound bouncing off the walls and closing in on her.

She crumples and falls to the ground, the floor swallowing her up as darkness claims her.

His eyes pop open and for a minute he has no idea where he is. Then he feels her warm, soft body and such smooth hands, and relaxes. Suddenly he pauses once more. Something in the picture painted before him is not right and he instantly remembers his last thought. _Smooth…hands_? And then he feels the immense heat. He lets out a scream before jumping up in panic; his pants are on _fire_. He jumps up and down (_burning flaming pain.must.get.it.out.)_ before realizing his stupidity and remembers the rain falling steadily outside. He dashes into the rain and feels instant relief as the cool water drenches him once again, the water flowing over his clothes, cooling his charred skin.

He looks down, searching for where he was burned before stretching his head around and looking down his back. He sees the charred clothes and revealed skin that is charred as well near his...well, _butt_, he thinks with a flush. (_It was on his lower back, really_) Where _had _her hands been, he wonders, searching into his memory for the dream he thought he had been having, now thinking it otherwise.

_She had been…holding her hands around me, as if in a hug…but they got progressively lower, as if she was sinking to the floor. (Really, I hope it was that she was just sinking and not some other absurd reason.)_

He absently scratches the skin and winces, wondering when life got so complicated. With a sigh he remembers it was the instant when he rescued her instead of letting her drown (maybe even before that) and walks back into the cave.

He ignores her for the moment, squeezing out his hair and pulling off his wet shirt slowly carefully enough as to not scratch the burned skin. Looking through his pack he finds some more bandages and cloth as well as some liquid-y stuff that his sister said would help with burns. And then he remembers the placement of the burns and lets out an aggravated sigh, threading his hands through his hair in frustration.

He can't do it himself, cannot really see it well enough to put the cream or bandages on the burns, and knows he needs help. _Her help_, he is reluctant to admit and immediately glances over at her.

She is moaning (_again? _Hevaguely remembers hearing something before he woke up) and his feet detach from his body as he goes over to her and gently shakes her. He does not want to disturb her, but the pain from the burns is bothering him and seeing as she was the one who caused them…

"Wake up," he says quietly near her ear, "Wake up Azula…"

* * *

She is sleeping, feeling her warm four poster bed beneath her (she vaguely wonders where the memories are coming from) when she feels someone shaking her.

"Wake up, Azula," a gruff voice says and she knows without looking that it is her father. (_Father?_)

She groans and turns over, mumbling some nonsense into her pillow when suddenly she feels his arms on her again, this time more roughly.

"Wake up!" he says, his voice hard, and she knows she must obey.

"Okay, I'm up, I'm up!" she says and opens her eyes.

* * *

Dark amber eyes focus onto sharp blue ones and a battle begins in his mind. A battle of wills if you will, and he finds himself unable to look but directly into her eyes, wondering what seems _different _about them.

The glowing firebender eyes begin to shimmer with unshed tears and he realizes what exactly is missing. He is stunned into silence and is barely paying attention when he hears her speaking. As she opens her mouth again he hears not the appropriate question (_Where am I?_) or even the moderately acceptable question for her situation (_What the hell am I doing here?_). No, the first thing he hears out of her mouth is none other than,

"Who are you?...And who am I?"

And he begins to wonder anew _exactly how hard_ she hit her head.

* * *

_A/N- __EDIT (12/22/07): Yet again I have edited this chapter, making it more readable and with better grammar than before. Again, enjoy and please review!_


	6. Time And Confusion

**Chapter 6: Time and Confusion**

She stared at the progressingly growing colder porridge, as if hoping for a miracle. The still full bowl stayed in its spot, uneaten and untouched. Her brother was never one to miss a meal, not even when he happened to be off fishing miles away (as was the case today). A hand fell upon her shoulder and she felt the presence of the blind earthbender behind her, but did not turn around.

"Snoozles _will_ come back, Katara. Your brother's sense of direction isn't bad enough not to know where food is when he's hungry. He probably caught a huge fish and then got caught in the bad storm." At these words, the previously mentioned waterbender looked to the storm raging outside the cave they had sought shelter in.

"That's what I'm worried about. This isn't the first time he's gotten caught in a bad storm." _And hasn't come back_, she added silently.

"And it won't be the last," Toph said with a laugh, to which Katara smiled weakly, her eyes still turned toward the opening of the cave. There was silence for awhile in the cave except for the noise of the storm outside and Toph had to strain to hear the waterbender's next words.

"I just don't think I can lose anyone else." She was quiet and in her blindness the earthbender did not see the silent tears that streamed down her companion's face.

Neither had to say anything to know that both were thinking about the airbender lying still as death near the fire, his hopeful eyes ever shut.

* * *

Sokka blinked and, for what must have been the fourth time that day, wondered if he was dreaming.

"I—you—we—what?" he sputtered, continuing to stare at her. Her clearly confused eyes stared back at him, offering no help. "You have no memory of anything," he said slowly, now more of a statement then a question. She shook her head weakly and added a soft "none" in answer.

He blinked again before pressing his fingers to his temple. He was just about to wonder about the gravity of their situation when a sharp pain in his lower back shot through him and he remembered his injuries with a grimace.

"Are you okay?" A quiet voice cut through his thoughts and he responded immediately with a truthful, "No. Not really. My back, you see—" and immediately stopped, starting at her with shocked regard. When had this girl—Azula, Princess of the Fire Nation—ever _cared_ about someone? Certainly never in his presence; and from what he'd seen of her, he'd never thought her to care for _anyone_, much less worry about a guy she (at the moment) had no idea the identity of. (He was, in essence, a total stranger to her at the moment, just as she was a stranger to _herself_)

And yet, here she was, looking at him with clear concern etched across her features, making her unidentifiable with her past self.

"Well, actually…I—" he stopped. He didn't need to look like a complete idiot, even if he was as confused as one. One of them had their bearings about them (in memory, at least), and that was him, as utterly confused as he was about her at the moment. He owed it to her to explain things, _some_ things at least. Well, not really _owed_ it to her if he was being technical; but now that he thought about it, that was if he was talking about her past self. Which he really couldn't do, seeing as her past self was not really _her_ anymore. Heck, he was confusing himself trying to figure out _how_ to figure her, how to _think_ about her. But really, above all, she was more confused than he was about everything and deserved to get somewhat out of the fog she was in. _But where to begin? _

"Well, see, basically, I was fishing earlier today and got a huge bite. I thought it was a huge fish and wasn't about to give up on dinner, for I do love my food. Eventually, I pulled it out of the water and found…" he stopped again, not knowing how to continue.

"Found…" she prompted gently (_gently_, he thought with further amazement)

"Found _you_, soaked to the bone and clearly unconscious. Possibly even _dead_." He turned his eyes away from her probing stare and continued once more.

"My mother—" _he would not choke here, he couldn't_, "My mother taught my sister and I first aid when we were younger and through that I found you alive—barely. I resuscitated you and got you to breath on your own—but not before I thought you were _gone for_ _good_. You—I—I heard your voice asking—asking me—"

"Not to leave," she said with sudden remembrance, surprising the both of them. She then blushed and looked down at the same time he turned his gaze toward her. He stared at her, but her gaze remained firmly downward, and so he continued once more, in his head chiding himself for bringing _that_ up.

"Yes, you asked me not to leave and I said I wouldn't. Not ever," he said, the last words becoming almost too quiet to hear, "A storm came eventually and I brought you to this cave we're currently in."

To this she looked around for the first time, which was difficult seeing as she lying down, though with her head comfortably placed on something _soft_. She also found herself surrounded (but not covered) by blankets that looked like they had been thrown off and about in the middle of the night. (_Was it night?_ She laughed at how insignificant that fact was compared to the rest of her blank memory, but a little piece of her mind persisted that at least that bit of information might have been helpful…) Her clothes looked to be thin underclothes that were slightly damp and with a blush she consciously pulled a blanket around herself.

He blushed too when seeing this, and bashfully said, "Your ar—outer clothes were soaked so I took them off and covered you in blankets so you wouldn't get cold or sick." He pulled another blanket toward her, wincing again as he was painfully reminded of his burns. She looked at him, her gratitude continuing to well up inside her. This stranger (well, stranger to her now, certainly not a stranger to her lost memory; she _knew_ she knew him from _somewhere_) had saved her from death not once but _twice_. He had taken care of her and her injuries and was still with her now, _continuing_ to care for her.

"And your injuries?" she inquired from beneath the blankets.

"You had—er—a nightmare at some point and well…set my pants on fire," he said, avoiding the _way_ they'd been sleeping that had partly caused his burns, or at least their specific location.

"No, no, it wasn't that bad," he said, misinterpreting her confused look, "I just need you to help me get those bandages there around the burns because I can't reach my burns myself," he continuing, gesturing embarrassedly to his lower back where the burns were still stinging. She seemed to be having some kind of mental battle when he looked over at her, something that immediately ceased when she caught his gaze.

She shakily sat up a bit, saying weakly, "Come over here," to which he acquiesced, bringing with him the salve and the bandages. Cautiously, he turned his back toward her and slid off his shirt, wincing. She took the salve from him, spreading it over his burns quietly and he heaved a sigh at the relief it brought. Slowly, she rolled the bandages around his torso, careful to cover the area with the burns. When she was nearly done he heard her speak up again, in a questioning voice that once again he felt surprised to hear coming from her mouth.

"You said I had a nightmare of some sort..."

"Yes,"

"And then I burned you." It was not a question.

"Yes," he said slowly, wondering where this was going.

She finished with the bandages and he turned to her, a question in his eyes, though he waited for her to continue. But instead of carrying on with that thought, she seemed to have thought of something else.

"Who did you say you were?"

"I didn't, sorry. I'm Sokka of the wa------just Sokka." They were after all, now strangers, and could be completely free of titles and other nonsense the war had brought upon everyone.

To this she smiled at him, a smile that strangely enough made him feel something lift inside and suddenly he felt lightheaded.

"And me? Who am I?" She looked at him with such an honest expression of curiosity, confusion and so many other tumbling emotions that he couldn't but help feel ashamed at what he was about to say.

"Az—Just Az." And he prayed the spirits wouldn't strike him down where he sat.

* * *

_A/N- EDIT (12/22/07): Sorry for the tense issues in this fic; I know all of the other chapters were in the present tense and this one was in the past tense (with some inconsistencies that I had to fix) but it just seemed to fit better and I think I'll be keeping [the fic in that tense from this chapter on. So I fixed the inconsistencies with tense that I found in this chapter as well as changed some grammar mistakes._

_This chapter's all good now, so please enjoy and review! (Next chapter coming soon! ;))_


	7. What I've Done

**Chapter 7: What I've Done**

_Hours earlier…_

"Are you sure?"

It was perhaps the tenth time he had asked this, but he could not but help feel that something was off—_this was just too good to be true_. To this she rolled her eyes, putting a well-manicured hand on his shoulder.

"I was sure the first time you asked me, Zuko, and will continue to be sure when we are at the palace again with everyone drinking to our victory. Ba Sing Se has fallen and the Earth Kingdom will follow. Our _lovely_ uncle is locked away in chains—" he half-winced at this and she pretended not to notice "—and will be brought home a prisoner on the same ship as Ty Lee and Mai. They, of course, will be there to make sure he doesn't try anything, or else I fear Mai will let one of her knives _slip_ and dear Uncle will be dead before dinner." She gave him a look of sympathy, one he had seen too many times to believe.

"We will be going home on another, _faster_ ship without holding cells to contain an insane firebender, I'm afraid, but there is news I—we—must tell Father in person, and quickly. Now come on, we have to be going." She swiftly let go of his shoulder and turned around, walking away quickly enough to distract him from her slip-up. He hesitated a second before following her, calling after her.

"Why will he believe me?"

Whatever was the question she was expecting, this was not it. She stopped and turned, eyebrows raised. "Who said you will be the one speaking?" she countered, barely loud enough for him to hear her. She turned back around quickly, walking straight out the door without another word.

* * *

"You lied," It was a statement. "You lied—and I believed you." The harsh remark cut across the ship and charged the air surrounding the two.

"I lied, yes," she said lazily, her back turned. "I lied about many things—Uncle being one of them, as he'll be executed once he reaches shore in the Fire Nation, of course—but not about _this_—"

And quicker than he had time to think, she had turned and shot her namesake blue flames at him, making him stumble backward before he conjured up a fast flame shield to defend himself. She threw more flames at him and it suddenly it was like their battle on the ship all those months ago, the battle from before all over again. (_but with something missing, though he couldn't think for the life of him what it was_) He kicked fire back at her and was on the ground with the wind knocked out of him before he knew it, the battle over in a heartbeat. She had his arms in a grotesque position, holding them twisted behind his body. She leaned down over him, holding him in this extremely painful position for a few seconds in silence before whispering softly in his ear.

"Who ever said you'll be alive to speak to Father?"

And then he felt sharp pain in his back a few seconds before it all went black.

* * *

Someone was laughing manically in the background, the voice sounding eerily familiar. But he was tired, so very _tired_; too exhausted to question anything…

And just like that, his eyes snapped open with the realization of what he was hearing and what exactly had happened. He was crumpled on the deck of a ship, a ship where it was only him and Azula—no one else. A ship that, moments before, the two had been battling upon. And now she was laughing hysterically at him, laughing at him for a myriad of reasons—but mostly for trusting her again, for _believing_ her.

_Azula always lies…_

He was up in a second, his hands gripping her deadly ones before he could think twice, knowing his life was in his very hands. He ignored the sharp pain in his lower back and head, not pausing to wonder when she had generated the lightning swirled around her hands. Quickly he channeled the lightning through his body and out his other hand, letting it explode on the nearby cliff (_just like Uncle_, he thought wistfully).

But there was no time to lose, and so he kicked her quickly off the ship, watching her fall into the deep water below and knowing instinctively it wasn't the end of her. He knew she'd survive, and he knew he'd be dead for sure if he stuck around to check.

So Zuko, the still banished Prince of the Fire Nation, _ran_.

And he didn't stop running until he was off the ship (_which had miraculously been docked the whole time_) and far away from where he started, albeit out of breath. It was only when he was far off into the woods far down the shoreline that he realized what was missing before, what he had left behind in Ba Sing Se.

_Uncle!_ He thought, nearly stunned into immobility. To make matters worse, the weather that had looked iffy all day decided to finally happen, the heavens opening upon him and the rain cascading down from the sky. He cursed loudly and tripped, falling to the ground. The knee he had landed upon stung him into tears, but was forgotten quickly when he pummeled his fists into the ground in frustration, berating himself for forgetting the one person that mattered most.

_What have I done_? He wondered wildly, his eyes no longer seeing the darkness of the forest or the heavily falling rain in front of him. His hands shook and his fists clenched as he remembered all he had done to his uncle already, and now what new pain he had just caused the man.

_I just wanted a new beginning…I just wanted to do the right thing…oh Spirits, help me…_

And when his trembling stopped and his hands unclenched, his eyes opened and he saw what he had failed to see before. A cave, hidden between some trees, came into view when firelight from inside it shone suddenly. Light that illuminated a person lying near the fire, _a person he could have identified anywhere._

It was only when he reached the entrance of the cave that he remembered the existence of two _other_ people that came attached to the first, one currently with flashing blue eyes and an expression of the deepest anger and hatred upon her face.

"_What the hell are you doing here?" _the waterbender called Katara hissed.

* * *

**A/N**- I know this fic isn't about Zuko—but I just realized I want this fic to be as much of an AU fic (with the Sokkla pairing) of the actual show more than anything…so the other pairings (if I have them, which I probably will…) will come later along with the addition of more canon characters and possibly an OC or two in upcoming chapters. There'll be lots of drama, angst, action and, of course, ROMANCE in the coming chapters…so plan on reading this fic for awhile; it's going to be 20+ chapters at it its finish I've roughly estimated. ;DD 

_Oh and this is Zuko's point of view during the first chapter of this fic, as well as a little before and a little after that chapter, if you couldn't tell._


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